Then, other things pop up that must be taken care of. My magazines have now started their holding pattern. I want to come back and visit them again. I can't eliminate the pile from my life. I know there were good ideas that I want to explore. Meanwhile, they've become merely weights to hold down something that needs gluing or an easy place to dry leaves.
Today, I plan to open one of the magazines in my pile and try a new technique. It's time before my pile reaches the ceiling or my pile (and I) crash through the floor.